Sebastian
by coeurgryffondor
Summary: Let it never be said that Roderich didn't know how to rile Basch Zwingli. / Gift fic for tumblr/mirouge.


Author's note: Gift for tumblr/mirouge who runs tumblr/askedelweiss, my favorite ask blog and the reason I now ship Austria/Switzerland: may this offering be worthy of your loveliness.

I don't know that much about Switzerland as a country but I know a lot about France and a lot about Austria so I'd like to think I know what Switzerland has had to deal with over all these years. Plus he's a challenging bugger to write and I need more excuses to write him.

Also for those who have never seen my house styles listing of names (tumblr/whosaidthat-me then click House Style), some of the countries have names they either don't use or don't like. It's been so long since those who knew their real names lived that their actual name has all but been forgotten in favor of the name they prefer, save a few close nations who remember. Lithuania (_Toris_) is actually Artūras, Liechtenstein (_Lili_) is Lieselotte, and Switzerland (_Basch_) is– well….

* * *

**Sebastian**

Basch has, by now, kept Roderich waiting for two hours. He's doing it on purpose, Roderich knows, to punish the Austrian for having been late to picking him up last time the Swiss nation had had to fly to Vienna. Despite Erzsébet's laughter and Lili's gentle reminders that Roderich always gets lost and really, four hours late to picking them up wasn't that bad, Basch had been very angry that particular trip and seemed to be finally taking his revenge now.

So today Roderich had set out six hours early, meaning he had arrived ten minutes before he and Basch had arranged to meet up: a world record to say the least. The Austrian is pretty sure his Hungarian friend passed out when he texted her that he was early, beyond of course the obvious shock of Roderich remembering how to text on his cell phone.

Eight hours after setting out from his hotel to get here and take Basch Zwingli out: Roderich wasn't a demanding man but as he sits, fuming, he thinks he better be getting some crazy good sex tonight to make up for this.

Or… oh. An idea starts forming, one that would ruin all chances of sex but might be even more satisfying. Oh yes, Roderich thinks, a small smile growing on his lips, that could be good.

"What are you smirking about?" someone beside him demands, a rough hand grabbing his shoulder. Without saying a word the Austrian rises to his full height, wrapping Basch up in his arms in that way the man most hated, and leaning down to whisper in his ear,

"Nothing."

* * *

At the performance Basch fidgets the entire time. Which was, really, nothing out of the normal: this was exactly how every performance passed, Roderich sitting calmly like a stone quite content with where it has rolled to, the Swiss one shifting over and over, trying to get comfortable. Erzsébet once compared it to the way little kids can't sit still when told to; it was as if Basch was unconsciously (or very consciously) trying to ruin the performance for Roderich.

Reaching out a hand to grab Basch's wrist, Roderich leans sideways, planting a kiss to that Swiss jaw. He runs the point of his noise up the man's cheek before moving back to sit up straight.

Basch peels Roderich's hand off his wrist to link their fingers together, crossing his unoccupied arm over his body and finally sitting still. It makes the Austrian smile just a little, knowing there was only so much time left in the performance before they would be leaving the theater.

* * *

During a late outing for dessert the man is much calmer, glaring at everyone who passes too closely by their little table in the back corner. Roderich, really not so embarrassed to be out in public with someone he was in a romantic relationship with, ignores Basch in favor of feeding him pieces of chocolate cake. He runs a hand up and down Basch's thigh between stealing small kisses, his companion still very grumpy but so precious at the same time.

"Look at me," Roderich murmurs in the sultriest voice he has and when those green eyes like fresh grass snap to him it makes the Austrian's heart flutter.

"I don't like being here," Basch forces out in a terse voice. "You know that."

"Mmm," he agrees.

"And this is a waste of money."

"It is if you are going to act so distant."

"I just want to go back to my place now please."

"Oh?" When Basch gives him that look that says, I'm not playing this game right now, Roderich only raises an eyebrow and nod. "As you wish Liebling."

For his use of a pet name in public, the Austrian receives a smack to the cheek.

* * *

They stumble into the bedroom, clothes already being shed everywhere. Somehow Roderich finds himself being shoved onto the bed, Basch's wild side finally coming out to play: the man hated being out in public where others could see him… canoodling with Roderich, that's how Lili had put it, but he sure didn't mind once they were through the front door showing the Austrian just what he wanted.

Wild kisses cover his skin as soon as its exposed, Roderich taking the opportunity to give that fine Swiss ass a squeeze. There's a moan of something against his shoulder where Basch has clearly begun marking his territory, and when the taller man asks, "What was that Liebling?" he only gets a murmured response of,

"Do it again, stupid."

Those eight hours of waiting for Basch were definitely becoming time well spent.

* * *

Once more contemplating how perfectly the Swiss nation fit in his arms as they lay in Basch's bed, Roderich feels himself drifting to sleep; his revenge could wait for another day, having thoroughly enjoyed the night's bedroom festivities.

"We should go somewhere for Christmas," Basch murmurs.

"Thought you liked staying in here to tolerating others?"

His lover shifts to get more comfortable, blond hair tickling Roderich's chin. "Lili wants to go to Paris this year. She said you once took her for the holidays and she liked it."

"Francis spoiled her when we went."

"As if you didn't spoil her all the time."

"Lieselotte deserves all that money can buy," Roderich reasons aloud. He'd never been able to keep his spending under control when it came to the women in his life: his Hungarian ex-wife, his former Monegasque lover, the sweet little principality that once depended upon him. A government official had once joked that they were all relieved Roderich had taken up with a man because they didn't have to worry about him spending all of the Austrian budget on gifts. "I'm glad you took Lili in."

"So that I could break all the bad habits you taught her?"

"Something like that." Basch smiles against his skin, kissing his Adam's apple.

"So you'll come?"

"Of course Liebling."

"There won't be any funny business while we're in Paris," Basch states sternly and Roderich pulls a face, rolling his eyes. "I don't need her knowing about those things."

"As if she doesn't know about sex already."

Basch bolts upright, staring at Roderich with wide green eyes. "No! Lili is young and innocent and don't talk like that, I won't have you corrupting her!"

Deciding that there would be no reasoning with the man at this point (blind passion and unconditional love for Lili definitely being Basch's biggest weaknesses), Roderich decides to just go for it and murmurs, "Whatever you would like to think dearest, darling Sebastian."

Silence fills the room.

An awkward, murderous sort of silence.

Then Basch attacks with a pillow, smothering Roderich who barely hears the shouts in a variety of languages of, "You know I hate that name! Why would you call me that you bastard! I'm going to kill you this time!"

Roderich, never one to let his honor be so insulted, replies elegantly with, "Arggh!"

* * *

Shivering on the downstairs couch where he's been banished to spend the night Roderich hears someone approach, Basch whispering in the dark, "Sorry I tried to kill you."

"No you are not."

"Yeah, I'm not." Something hangs in the air between them, something that's maybe always been there between them and maybe always would be but that they were prepared to work past. Together.

"I love you, Sebastian Zwingli."

There's a pause, the Austrian unable to see anything, until the floor creaks and a pair of lips press against his.

"I love you too, even if you'll always be an Austrian, Catholic, Habsburg-loving idiot."


End file.
